


Soft Counter

by emissaryofrainbows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ass Expansion, Belly Kink, F/F, Face-Sitting, Fart Fetish, Fart Inflation, Farting, Femdom, Inflation, facesitting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 23:20:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20182393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryofrainbows/pseuds/emissaryofrainbows
Summary: Another request from tumblr. Widowmaker discovers that her farts cause certain parts of her body to grow bigger, so she decides to share this newfound power with Tracer.





	Soft Counter

Widowmaker aimed her rifle, crouched down on a rooftop with her eyes fixed down the crimson sights of her Widow’s Kiss. She squeezed the trigger, as her crosshairs and the head of her victim were aligned. Her focus was cut short however, as a comically large, long fart was expelled from between her asscheeks, punctuated by a foul smell filling the air and clouding her concentration.

Her fart brought more than just a shameful noise and a nasty odor, however. Instead of making her less bloated, releasing her fart had puffed out her stomach more, making it tight and compact, with a rounded shape to it. Her already impressive ass had gained an addition as well, sticking out a few inches and becoming noticeably more plump.

Widowmaker was intrigued, but wanted to make sure that her flatulence was the cause of this sudden transformation. She took another moment to line up her sights, finally dispatching her target with a well-placed shot, before squeezing as hard as she could in hopes of forcing out another fart.

She managed, and once again, both parts of her body gained a reasonable amount of size. Her stomach swelled further, making her look as though she was reasonably far into a pregnancy, and her ass jutted out a bit more too, now wobbling with the slightest movement.

Unfortunately, that second fart had alerted one of her enemies to her position. It was Tracer, the consistent thorn in Widowmaker’s side, who zipped towards her position in a way that she could simply not hope to keep up with. She was assaulted by pulse pistol rounds from her previously secure position, as Tracer drew closer to her.

Luck was soon on Widowmaker’s size, however, as Tracer managed to teleport close enough to Widowmaker to get a good whiff of the gas she had produced. Her nose wrinkled as it was assaulted by the scent, giving Widowmaker enough time to shove her to the ground, and pin her underneath her newly-inflated ass.

Even with her enemy smothered underneath her bottom, there was no reason Widowmaker had to stop trying to force out farts in hopes of inflating herself even more, and seeing how far she could take this. Tracer, meanwhile, wriggled helplessly under Widowmaker’s mighty butt. Although it was the least of her worries, Tracer couldn’t help but feel slightly jealous of Widowmaker, who had now managed to surpass the famously bottom-heavy British girl when it came to junk in the trunk.

Widowmaker felt another fart coming on, and she certainly wasn’t going to hold it back for Tracer’s sake. She let the loud, ripping, foul-smelling burst of gas right into her opponent’s face. Her stomach expanded again, making her look like she was heavily pregnant, and her ass grew along with it, meaning that there was even more for Tracer to be buried under.

Curiously, Widowmaker wasn’t the only one who grew from the release of her rancid fart. Tracer’s body underwent similar changes, with her ass growing bigger and stretching her skintight orange leggings even further, and her stomach causing her jacket to distend.

"Oi, what did you eat?“ Tracer moaned, her voice muffled under Widowmaker’s expanded behind.

"I was going to ask you the same thing” she responded, turning around so she was facing Tracer’s stomach while still sitting on her face, so she could poke and prod teasingly at her belly.

"If you’re gonna do that, could you at least unzip my jacket? It’s getting pretty tight on me" Tracer said, after Widowmaker farted again, causing the pair’s stomachs to expand simultaneously, and Tracer’s jacket to seriously strain.

Widowmaker nodded, and decided to give her adversary this mercy, unzipping her jacket and allowing her tight, inflated stomach to free itself from the confines of her clothing. With her taut, pale belly exposed, it was now clear that her navel had popped, giving it an extremely cute look that Widowmaker couldn’t help but chuckle at.

"Is there any chance you could get your arse off my face any time soon?“ Tracer asked, hoping she could start a winning streak of Widowmaker actually doing what she wanted her to.

The sniper shook her head. “I’m afraid not” she said. “I’ll keep you here until I’ve made you large enough that you’re no longer able to move. Then, once you’re no longer a threat to me or my team, then you are free to go”

"Won’t you be too big to move too, then?“ Tracer responded, bracing herself for Widowmaker’s next ass blast, which she was almost certain would be coming soon.

"Well, a sniper doesn’t need to zip around the battlefield, now does she?” she said with a chuckle. “It’s my job to stay in one place while stalking my prey, being too big to move is hardly a problem”

Tracer grunted. She had always been proud of her rump, and a bit of size added to it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, even if it meant she would need to go shopping for new clothes. She liked the idea of permanently sporting a rounded, swollen belly, however, and the fact that she would need to endure more of Widowmaker’s horrendous gas made it that much worse. She had always heard jokes about the French smelling terrible, but this was something else entirely!

"Here it comes~“ Widowmaker teased, becoming more playful than cruel and giving Tracer a fair warning before she unleashed another rank ass explosion on her cute, vulnerable nose.

Despite her warning, Widowmaker’s flatulence still had the impact of Reinhardt’s hammer, making Tracer dizzy, to where she barely realized that her breasts and belly were inflating again.

Widowmaker’s assets grew considerably. Her breasts even got an addition this time, popping out of her outfit which was designed for a woman with a much more modest chest than what she had now. She grabbed her pale blue breasts, and toyed with her dark blue nipples, finding that, unlike before, she was unable to fit her hands around them entirely.

"Not bad” she said, although Tracer wasn’t fortunate enough for her breasts to grow. In fact, her ass had stopped growing too, forever doomed to be smaller than Widowmaker’s own enormous behind that was currently crushing her face. Her stomach was the only thing that grew, ballooning out from her torso.

Tracer moaned, as the nasty scent of Widowmaker’s ass became overwhelming, and the tightness of her stomach became uncomfortable. Fortunately, even with Widowmaker’s ass pinning her down, she could still move her arms, and she was able to locate her belly and rub it to soothe its aching.

"Can you get it over with?“ Tracer protested. “I don’t mind becoming a big fat fart balloon or whatever, I just don’t want to have to keep waiting around for your disgusting arse to make another one of those nasty farts!”

"I’ll try my best” Widowmaker said, preparing herself to unleash the smelliest, largest fart she could possibly manage. “Remember, you asked for this” she said, as her bloated stomach churned away, working diligently to produce a fart loud and nasty enough to immobilize Tracer in one go, and immortalize Widowmaker as the owner of the world’s biggest ass.

While she was in the process of churning up that final fart, her ass would occasionally let out a smaller toot, making the two women’s available assets grow by a few centimeters at a time, and making Tracer wonder if Widowmaker had given up on her promise of getting this over with.

Eventually she did, though, and Tracer wondered if she had made a mistake, and was better of taking Widowmaker’s farts one at a time. Her gas smelled significantly worse than usual, which was saying something, due to how long it had been stewing in her gut. Its power once again reminder her of Reinhardt. This time, it recalled his Earthshatter ability, with the way her rancid expulsion shook the ground beneath her, and left Tracer stunned, just as Reinhardt’s ultimate tended to do.

"How deliciously foul” Widowmaker said, taking a moment to examine her body, in what would be its ultimate state. Her breasts had reached their maximum from the force of her fart, combining the perkiness and size that came with artificial implants with the pleasant jiggle that natural breasts tended to have. Their size was staggering, though, dwarfing Widowmaker’s own head and making it impossible for her to see her feet.

She could still see her belly from underneath her endowments, though. She was originally a bit wary about it, and the way it jutted out shamefully from her midsection, but she found it pleasant now that it was complimented by the proportion of her breasts. She ran her hands over its surface, and found the sensation of her cold hands over her tight belly pleasing.

Last but not least was her ass, the source of all this rank flatulence and the part of her that had received the most attention. She stood up from Tracer’s face, and wiggled it up and down, almost mesmerized by its motion. It was even larger than her breasts or belly, and extended five or so feet from Widowmaker’s body, with a thickness to match. It was difficult to walk, but not as much as she expected at first, and she found it made an excellent seat to snipe from. It did make her a bigger target, sure, but with how thick and jiggly it was, she wouldn’t be surprised if her new ass was completely bulletproof.

She had become so occupied examining her own body that she almost forgot about her adversary. Tracer was still lying on her back, where she would remain until one of her teammates helped her up, as her stomach was too enormous to allow her to move.

"It must be shameful, to have a belly that large, without a chest or an ass like mine to offset it" she said, standing above Tracer, rubbing the girl’s belly teasingly.

"Well, at least I don’t need to sniff your nasty arse anymore" she said in a way that was surprisingly not antagonistic, considering all that Widowmaker had done for her. She made a few more attempts to get up, but gave up once her balloon belly stopped her every time. Her belly was of a similar proportion to Widowmaker’s ass, sticking straight up in the air at a distance roughly equivalent to Tracer’s own height. The skin was stretched tighter than ever, and Tracer could only paw at it uselessly in hopes of relieving the pain.

"This was enjoyable, but I must be going" Widowmaker said, firing her grappling hook towards a nearby building, and rocketing off with her ass wobbling behind her.

Meanwhile, Lena laid on the ground, hoping her team would be able to push back the enemies fair enough to rescue her. She sighed, lazily rubbing at her stomach, finding that it was a pretty good way to pass the time, and just like Widowmaker, she began to enjoy the feeling a bit too.

A tight, sharp fart escaped from Lena’s perfectly-sculpted buttcheeks without warning, exposing Lena’s nose to a smell that was just as disgusting as Widowmaker’s, but more familiar, and therefore more tolerable.

"Excuse me" Tracer said, as she felt her breasts swell slightly, and the asscheeks the fart came from between become just the slightest bit plumper.


End file.
